


Glow

by bezitazita



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, little bit of artsy, mostly fluffy and silly, three year maybe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 22:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20022262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bezitazita/pseuds/bezitazita
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for The Prince and the Heiress July 2019 BVDN. Three separate short bits written along the lines of the theme "glow".  40 minutes each.





	1. Cathodoluminescence

**Author's Note:**

> These were written for the July 2019 The Prince and the Heiress BVDN. The goal is to have 40 minutes to write roughly 400 words. I was late to the party and missed the memo, so some are shorter or longer (including one where I stopped writing and went back to the previous prompt. Oops!)
> 
> If you like any specific prompt and want more, let me know! I'll do my best to accomodate! I'm back into the writing part of the fandom and am excited to write more. 

Bulma bit at her lip, surveying the room. The prince, after years of being together unofficially, had agreed to share a room with her and she was going to do her best to make him absolutely comfortable in their shared space. He liked clean lines, zero clutter, and militant organization. Her previous room, which he frequented only for nighttime rendezvous, was anything but clean, organized, and uncluttered.

“ _ That would be acceptable _ ,” she recalled him saying when she put the idea before him a month ago. She insisted that she make some upgrades, obsessing over minute details in typical Bulma Briefs fashion. He rolled his eyes, saying that it was unnecessary for her to make a fuss over something trivial in itself, but she knew the lilac paint and frilly canopy bed from her teen days were also an eyesore to his sensibilities. 

That very evening, as if a spark ignited in the inspiration center of her brain, she stayed up all night working on plans for their shared space. She sweated over schematics, scribbling notes into a spiral notebook well into the wee hours of the morning. Curious why she hadn’t shown up at his door around her usual calling time, Vegeta came down to her office early in the morning. He found her snoring softly at her desk, head on her folded arms. This wasn’t uncommon, seeing her workaholic tendencies, however, and he prodded her awake without concern on what kept her up. 

She hadn’t made much mention about her plans, insisting that everything was a surprise. This met with looks of feigned disinterest, though she saw he tried to peek into the cordoned off room on more than one occasion. She spent most nights sharing his much more minimalist room until the final touches were installed. 

She was too excited to eat much of her dinner that evening, though she tried her best to hide her excitement. She focused her energy on their toddler son, who had hit a bit of a growth spurt recently and was ravenously hungry. She served him a third helping of mashed potatoes before cutting up a fifth helping of barbequed chicken. If she hadn’t known the boy was a half-Saiyan, the volume of food going into his tiny body would have been astonishing. 

“Thanks again for taking Trunks for the evening, Mom and Dad,” Bulma said as dinner drew to a close. Her mother was removing empty serving dishes from the table and her father reclined in his chair with a glass of dessert wine in hand. 

“It’s not a problem at all, Dear,” Panchy cooed, readjusting the dishes in her arms and running a hand over her grandson’s soft lilac hair. “He is always so well-behaved for his Grandma and Grandpa.” 

“Indeed,” Dr. Briefs added. Trunks took this opportunity to knock his empty plate onto the ground. Vegeta glared icily at his son’s manners, but his grandparents laughed as if the whole situation was a charming joke. 

“You two enjoy your evening together,” Panchy said sweetly with a wink at her daughter. While Vegeta looked like he would very much like to die in the moment, Bulma gave her mother a thumbs up and a smile. 

Moments later, after everything was put away and Trunks was being carried off to the elder Briefs’s part of the large house, Bulma led Vegeta up the staircase and down the hall. She stopped at the door to the room she previously called her own. 

“I know this isn’t a big deal to you, but I’ve worked really hard to get all this together,” she stated, hands on her hips. 

“I didn’t ask you to do any of this,” Vegeta replied. Before he could continue, she raised a perfectly manicured nail to his lips. 

“I know you didn’t ask,” she said with a coy smile. “I want this to be something for both of us to share,  _ together _ .”

A tinge of blush spread across his cheeks, shying from the obvious display of affection from the woman. She removed her finger from his lips and reached for the door handle. 

The door opened to a beautifully modern room, all clean lines and fine furnishings. She had replaced the girly, lacy decor from before with rugs, furniture, and linens perfectly tailored to her exact vision. The bed, large and luxurious, faced the large windows against the far wall, a tantalizing view of the city beyond. A set of plush, elegant armchairs, hand embroidered by artisans, comprised a seating area in the corner of the room. A bottle of wine sat chilling in a fine silver bucket between the chairs.

“This is just the start,” Bulma sang, skipping past him into the room. She opened her arms wide, presenting her masterpiece. “Just wait till you see the closets and the bathroom. I think you’ll be most excited about the shower…”

The prince looked around the room, taking in the splendor of the woman’s hard work. She had obviously poured a great deal of work into incorporating his taste into the furnishings. 

“What do you think?” she asked, looking immensely proud of herself. 


	2. After-Midnight Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A longer drabble of a surprise night on the town.

He wasn’t sure how she managed to drag him out with her for the night, but the vixen had worked her charm in some way. She had the sense to pick somewhere where they could enjoy cocktails in a private room, partially due to her fame, but also due to his deep-seated hatred of humans. A private waiter brought their drinks in, one after another as the night dragged on. 

The room was secluded, llined with black velvet and trimmed with deep blue underlighting. Small and intimate, the parlor held only a corner booth with plush seats and a table topped in dark marble. She hadn’t devulged her reason for wanting to drink herself into oblivion, but she had found her way there regardless. 

Even with a pocketbook as deep as the universe was vast, the bar closed for all patrons in the wee hours of the morning. The two left through the back door to the bar and re-entered the world of the public once again. Neon signs lit the streets in an array of colors, nearly as bright as natural daylight, but much more harsh. She fumbled in the pockets of her trench coat, pulling out a set of keys and handing them to her alien houseguest. 

“You’re going to have to get us home,” she said, her words slightly slurred. “I’m exhausted… and I’m pretty sure I’m drunk.”

“You reek of alcohol, woman,” Vegeta deadpanned. Not only had he nursed his drinks through the night, but his metabolism made Earthly drinking completely futile. “And there is no point of me driving your clunky vehicle. I can fly.”

Bulma shook her head furiously, her curled hair bouncing back and forth before her face. “This car is worth more than half the buildings on this block. I need you to drive it. I’m not leaving it here. You drive or I’ll drive and kill us both”

The prince rolled his eyes. Even if she crashed the vehicle, he would likely survive. Regardless, he could figure out how to drive the vehicle in a matter of minutes. He had piloted handfuls of dozens of vehicles over his decades of life, most much more complex than a simple Earth sports car. Bulma flashed him a toothy smile. “Please?”

He took the keys from her with more force than he planned. She giddily shuffled to the passenger’s seat, flopping into the leather seat with a complete absence of grace. Vegeta took his seat at the wheel and observed the controls carefully, the red interior lights illuminating the many dials and gauges of the sports car. The controls were simple enough. He turned the key, the powerful engine roaring to life. He checked the rear view mirror, the reflection showing only the bright night lights of the metropolis behind. 

Once he noted that the woman was buckled in properly, he hit the gas of the car, throwing them forward at breakneck speed. Bulma screamed, laughing as the prince dodged traffic, breaking hundreds of laws in the process. He weaved in and out of cars with incredible precision for someone who had never driven a car before, eliciting more laughs and cheers from the obviously intoxicated heiress. Miraculously for them, what little traffic existed on the late night streets of West City was free of law enforcement to stop the pair. 

They arrived back at Capsule Corp, away from the neon lights of the city, both intact through some miracle. Vegeta let himself out of the car and instinctively walked around the car to the passenger’s side. Bulma opened the door to meet him, though she remained buckled in still. 

“You’re a good guy, Vegeta,” she said, her words still blending together a bit. She looked exhausted, but happy. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight and getting me back home.”

“You’re a mess, woman,” he replied, crossing his arms. Bulma unhooked herself from the car and caught herself before she could fall out onto the concrete of the driveway. She climbed out of the car and did her best to straighten herself back out, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress and running her hands through her hair. Vegeta stole a glance at her as her attention was elsewhere. There was nothing she could do to look less tantalizing.


	3. Tableau de Lumière Argentée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A still image of a goddess in the moonlight.

Mesmerisingly, she sat in the twilight, surrounded by fireflies, backlit by the spread of the Milky Way above. Billowing linen cascaded over her, rippling in the perfumed breeze of evening time. Her perfect cerulean locks drifted lazily across her face, but she paid them no mind. Her mind was filled with numbers and figures, carefully calculating the universe around her. She sat beneath an arbor, vined plants grasping the trellis, their flowers yearning to touch the night sky. One perfectly creamy ivory leg fell from the bench, toes lazily tracing circles in the cool, damp earth. 

She was a masterpiece, a goddess of grace, humor, and wit. She chose to use her magic flirting with demons, thrilled at the challenge of pulling the good from the depths of their souls. Why she had given her light to him, he would never understand. Once proud of the darkness he held, every moment with her spread more warmth into his soul, whether he deemed himself worthy or not. 

He joined her on the marble bench, those magnificently luminescent eyes lighting up to meet his. She pulled him close, pressing her sweet rosy lips to his. He could taste the joy on her lips, shrouded in velvet and sweet peppermint. Deciding whether or not he deserved this sweet bliss was completely in her tiny, delicate hands. She was tantalizing, addicting, with every hit being just as strong as the last. 

As their lips pulled apart, eyes lazily drifting open to meet, he gazed upon her again. Her eyes shone with passion, cut by the gods themselves from gems not meant for mortal men. The silver sheen of moonlight kissed her skin with an intimacy he hoped again to mirror. She was beauty incarnate.


End file.
